Cry Wolf
by Sherlocked Gallifreyan
Summary: Short stories inspired by the song Cry Wolf by Jonathan Thulin. Overall rating subject to change. Each chapter has its own rating. Unless otherwise specified, chapters are their own individual stories; the events of one have no effect on the events of the ohers. The chapters are also not in any particular order. Original Knight Rider.
1. Fooled

Title: Fooled

Rating: K+

Pairing/Type: Kitt-Michael/friendship

Song: Cry Wolf by Jonathan Thulin

each chapter is inspired by a different part of the song

Unbeta'd, so any errors are mine.

Lie, lie, lie 'till you're blue in the face

. . .

It's an empty trade but you do it well

You've got everyone fooled by the lies you tell

The uncertainty of his existence hit Michael quite suddenly one day. Everything was a lie. While he had known that, been comfortable with it, for years, it was driven home when he saw his mother by chance in a shopping mall in Colorado early December 1990. Confident she wouldn't recognize him, Michael walked past her like nothing was wrong, like his heart wasn't simultaneously in his stomach and his throat. Of course she didn't recognize him. But after seeing her, he'd left the mall and made a direct beeline for Kitt. He hadn't greeted the AI like he usually did, only slammed the door and sat with jaw and fists clenched, trying to bring his emotions back under his control. He knew Kitt had scanned him and had undoubtedly picked up on his raised heart rate and whatever else was screwed up at the moment; thankfully, Kitt said nothing about it.

Something in Michael's body language kept Kitt silent. Nothing had rattled his partner this much before. Not even Stevie's death had produced such a powerful reaction.

"She didn't recognize me, Kitt," Michael said in a small, hollow voice that was foreign to Kitt. "She didn't recognize me at all." His voice now held a faint undertone of panic. It couldn't have been one of Michael's one-night-stands. He was usually quite grateful when none of them recognized him; something about it being awkward. "I mean, I know it's been almost ten years since she last saw me and I have a new face but some form of recognition would have been nice maybe a Merry Christmas even though Christmas is still a few weeks away or just a polite smile would have been nice but nothing I was nothing more than just another face in the crowd and if she recognized me so much would have been put in danger and my cover compromised and..." Michael drew in a shaky breath and released it in a slow, deliberate hiss.

Kitt took advantage of this break in Michael's breathless rambling to ask as gently as he could, "Michael, who was she?"

"My mother, Kitt," Michael said forlornly, sounding for all the world like a lost child. "She was my mother." Here he paused, brain working furiously. "Was? Is?"

Sensing Michael's confusion and the panic it brought, Kitt interjected, "Is, Michael. She _is_ your mother. You may have a new face and identity, but she still is the woman who gave birth to you." Michael mustered what energy he could and offered Kitt a tired, lop-sided smile. Trust Kitt to point out something logical like that.

"Y'know, I'd like to think she hasn't forgotten about me," Michael mused, absently drumming the fingers of his left hand against his thigh. "I know it sounds selfish -"

"It's not at all selfish," Kitt interrupted, something he liked to think he rarely did. But he couldn't have Michael slipping into any sort of logic loop. Not until their case was finished, at any rate. "It's only logical to..." How was he going to phrase this? He wanted to say that even thought Michael Long was officially dead, he understood why Michael Knight hoped his mother hadn't forgotten about him. But if he couldn't get the sentiment clear in his processors, how was he going to get Michael to understand?

Michael patted the dash. "Thank you, Kitt," he said genuinely. Relief flooded Kitt. Somehow, Michael had understood what he had been trying to say. "Now what do you say we go find those dealers?" he asked, sounding more like himself.

Of course, the issue wasn't resolved fully. Just resolved enough for Michael to sweep it back under the rug. The middle of a case was no place emotional meltdowns.


	2. Perform

Title: Perform

Rating: T

Pairings: none. major character death

Song: Cry Wolf

Unbeta'd, so any errors are mine.

 _Cry, cry, cry 'cause they're listening now_

 _Give the performance of your life, then take your bow_

Michael's back was against the wall. He had run out of room far too soon. For the first time in all the years he'd known Kitt, he was well and truly on his own. Through an immensly unfortunate series of events that didn't bear thinking about, Michael and Kitt had become separated. For all Michael knew, Kitt was dead, and vice versa.

Fighting his way out was not an option. There were ten of them, all heavily armed, and they had him cornered. Michael's only option was to try to talk his way out. He'd done it before, so he could do it again, right? He wanted to believe he could, but Kitt had been right behind him all those other times. He had no back up now.

So Michael smiled his most disarming smile and spread his empty hands. If it was information they wanted, it was information they'd get. All Michael had to do was convince them that he was telling the truth. Easy enough. He'd lied to innumerable people countless times. The more he spoke, the easier it got. Each expression, every last hand gesture was carefully executed. He could see them falling, one by one, for his lies. Soon, only the leader of the ragtag band of killers was the only one left to convince, but the steely glint in her eyes and the downturned corners of her mouth told him she wouldn't be convinced.

"Well done, Knight," she said smoothly. "If I didn't already know the truth, I would have believed you." Calmly she raised her pistol and fired once, twice into Michael's chest. His death was such a waste. Knight would have made an excellent criminal if he weren't so damned _good._


	3. The Mechanic who Cried Spider

Title: The Mechanic who Cried Spider

Rating: K+/T for mild language

Pairing: none

Unbeta'd, so any errors are my own.

Bonnie's horrified scream tore Michael from his light slumber. He bolted into the garage, expecting to see someone threatening either Bonnie or Kitt. "What's wrong?" he asked, seeing nothing out of the ordinary.

"Spider!" Bonnie managed. Normally she wasn't very scared of spiders, but this one was at least quarter-sized and had introduced itself to her by dropping onto her hand. How that spider had gotten into the garage was beyond her.

"I'm not seeing anything," Michael said. Now that her heart had settled, Bonnie helped Michael look for the spider. They couldn't find the little bastard even with Kitt's scanners.

"I swear there was a spider," Bonnie said emphatically. "It landed on my hand!"

"I don't doubt it," Michael said carefully. Bonnie had been working continuously since before seven that morning, so it was possible her mind was playing tricks on her. "Yell if you see it again." With that, he left the garage.

Bonnie shook her head and returned to work. Maybe she should take a few more breaks, she thought. As much as she wanted to ask Kitt if he saw the spider, she feared the question would turn into a lecture on not over-working herself. She loved Kitt, but sometimes the AI could be a little overbearing in his protectiveness.

The charade was to be repeated three more times within the next two hours. Each time, Michael, Bonnie, and Kitt thoroughly searched the garage for any sign of the spider. Each time they came up empty. When he left this time, Michael didn't bother telling Bonnie to yell if she saw the spider. He'd already decided that she was imagining the spider. He couldn't help but be reminded of that story about the boy who cried wolf.

Bonnie ran her fingers through her hair. There had been a spider all four times. She was now willing to stake her life on that fact. Determined to prove it to Michael and Kitt, she fetched the now-empty glass from her dinner and a sturdy sheet of cardboard. Fifteen minutes later, she had her chance. The spider scuttled across Kitt's deck lid.

"Bonnie?" the AI asked. "Bonnie, if that's the spider, could you please remove it from my person?"

"Already on it," she said, setting the cardboard in front of the spider so it crawled onto the sheet. With a triumphant smirk, she placed the mouth of the glass over the spider. Bonnie walked to Kitt's prow. "See?" She held the trapped spider in front of Kitt's scanner.

"Yes, Bonnie. I see it." Kitt backed up a few feet and Bonnie made a note to talk to him about what she could only define as the fear she read in the action. "I'm sure Michael would be more interested." His scanner tracked more quickly than normal, causing Bonnie to frown. She hoped Michael hadn't had anything to do with Kitt's fear. Or maybe it would be better if he had... Head held high, Bonnie left the garage and found Michael arguing with a broken vending machine. She tapped him on the shoulder and couldn't hide her delight when he nearly jumped out of his skin.

"I told you there was a spider," she said, shoving it close to his face.

"Yeah, that's nice, Bon," he said, backing away and slipping around her. "Why don't you just kill it?" His snack forgotten, Michael high-tailed it out of the garage. So Michael did have something to do with it. With a thoughtful expression, Bonnie carried the spider out to the garden and deposited it on a leaf. She knew that as long as she left the spider alone, it would leave her alone. But it was interesting. Michael seemed so fearless normally. She genuinely hoped she'd just caught him off-guard.

Bonnie retured to bay 3. "I hope you didn't kill it, Bonnie," Kitt said. He'd returned to his original spot. "I may not like spiders very much, but they do serve a purpose." Science and logic were comforting.

"I put it in the garden," she said with a tired sigh. "Let's get you finished up, shall we?" Kitt made an agreeable noise, and Bonnie pulled her chair closer to the Trans-Am.

A/N: Bonnie's refusal to kill the spider based off my own grandfather's. He would always put the spiders back outside. Whether Michael is scared of spiders or not is up to you. I probably took a bit of creative license with the garage but oh well. Not quite happy with this one, but that's just how it goes sometimes.


End file.
